Saturday, February 19, 2011

Week 3 - Boxing Classes

I am not a fan of the sport of competitive boxing. The concept of people hitting each other until they bleed (or worse) doesn't really sound like fun to me.

I will admit, though, I've clocked a couple of people in my lifetime. Two events come to mind, neither of which I'm overly proud of.

The first time I really hauled off and let someone have it occurred on a camping trip. We won't get into what I think of camping (frankly, it's somewhat on par with professional boxing, in my mind), but we will just say that I was none too thrilled with having to spend the night sleeping in a tent on the cold, hard ground. I went to bed early (hoping if I just fell asleep, I could hasten the end of the camping experience), put on my sleep mask, crawled into my sleeping bag, and dozed off. My friends stayed out by the fire with a case of beer. And when they finally crawled into the tent - none too quiet, I might add - I woke suddenly, forgot where I was, couldn't see anything (thanks to the aforesaid sleep mask) and randomly threw a right hook in the air. Despite all the factors working against me actually hitting someone, my fist connected with my friend Glen's nose. Hard.

The second time I used my fists occurred on a vacation in Rome. I was minding my own business, heading to the Spanish Steps, when all of sudden a gypsy child appeared on either side of me. Before I knew what was happening, the child on my left grabbed my arm tightly and started wailing aloud, trying to draw my attention towards her and away from my purse, while the child on my right attempted to make off with my wallet and camera. Luckily for me, I figured out what was going on pretty quickly, and realized the only way to shake the gypsy child's grip was to punch her in the hopes she would let go of me. So punch her I did, and once I was able to fight back, the two children ran off quickly into the tourist crowd. It was a little exhilarating. Until I had to admit I had just clocked a ten year old kid (on the shoulder, but nonetheless...)

Yup, I am a lover, not a fighter.

But while I would never want to participate in competitive boxing (not only could I not hurt anyone else, I am a big suck when it comes to other people hurting me), I have heard that boxing training is one of the most remarkable forms of exercise one can pursue for cardiovascular and muscle strength.

Yes, I'm still doing an exercise boot camp, and yes, I'm still doing hot yoga. Both of which have proven very effective in changing my body shape and making me a happier, healthier person. But Pan Am Boxing offers lunchtime training sessions, and there's something about trying a new form of exercise - and allowing me to exhaust myself while taking out my mid-day aggression on a punching bag - that strongly appeals to me.

So New Activity #3 = boxing classes.

Wish me luck, cue Rocky theme music, and cut to the meat locker....this fighter's out. Till next week, that is.

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